Ever I Saw Your Eyes
by VT Arkens
Summary: When a mysterious girl shows up on Nick's doorstep, he's sure he knows who she is. But when her true identity is revealed, Monroe discovers a side of him he thought he'd lost a long, long time ago.
1. Chapter 1: Visitor

**So! I told myself I would write a story that wasn't Portal-related, and I did it! :D So, read it, love it, review it. That's if you want to, that is. Please.**

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><p>Nick and Juliette were cuddling on the couch. It was a Friday night, and neither had any idea of what had taken place the evening before. No idea that someone had been in their room. No idea the intruder had taken something.<p>

There was a gentle knock at the door, and the moment Nick laid eyes on the visitor, he remembered something of vital importance. "Hey, Alex, sorry, I totally forgot you were coming."

The fifteen-year-old girl with the messy, wavy, dark blonde hair and dark brown eyes smiled. "Figures. And how many times did I remind you? Five, was it?" Nick laughed.

He let her in and led her to the living room. "Juliette, this is my cousin, Alexandra. I told her she could stay here for the week. I meant to tell you, but I've just been so busy lately..."

Juliette greeted the girl with a smile. It was odd, though. She was sure Nick had told her his Aunt Marie had been his only living relative. But maybe she was mistaken.

Alex was shown to the guest room, where she set down her single small, blue bag. Nick motioned to the bed, indicating for her to take a seat. She obeyed, and he put his hand on her shoulder. "You doing alright?" She nodded, but closed her eyes and kept silent. "It's hard, I know. I'm glad the orphanage let you come visit."

Her eyes still shut, she spoke quietly as she fiddled with the gold chain around her neck, which was partially covered by her brown shirt. "I miss him. I never thought I'd say it, but I _really_ miss him."

She didn't cry at the memories. Her father- Nick's uncle Matthew- had died of a freak heart attack just a year before. It hurt him to see her so scared, so alone, just like he'd been when his own parents had died. "If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here, okay?" She finally looked at him and nodded again. "I'll let you get settled in." He patted her shoulder one more time and left, closing the door behind him.

Alex grinned when he was gone and set a small bundle of materials on the desk. She pulled out a bottle of water from her bag and took a quick sip. This was all going so well.

"Hey, Nick." Hank called. Nick looked up from the files on his desk. "What do you say we go out tonight, get a drink or two?"

"Can't." That was all he said.

Hank sat down near him. "What, you got plans with Juliette?"

Nick knew exactly what he meant by "Plans". "No, my cousin is visiting."

"So?" Nick laughed and shook his head. "What? Maybe she wants in."

It was obvious Hank was joking around, but Nick's answer was in all seriousness. "I am not going to- You know what, I'm not going to even go there."

Hank shrugged. "Well, why do you have to stay with her? Why not let her roam around a bit? Go sight-seeing, or something."

He gathered the files and looked at his partner. "She's not even sixteen yet. Besides, she's still not over her father dying."

"So you think she's suicidal?" It was asked in innocence and concern.

Nick shook his head. "I can't know for sure, but I'd rather not take any chances. She needs me right now. I'm the only one she has left, plus I went through almost the same thing. I've been helping her cope."

"If you say so." He was about to leave when they heard a voice behind them.

Sergeant Wu held a folder in his hand and set it down in front of Nick. "Just got a report on a break-in. Victim said there were some stolen heirlooms and a safe with about $2,000."

Hank looked through the file, an odd expression on his face. "Hey, Nick. I think you should have a look at this." He pointed to the address, and Nick felt his eyes widen.

When they arrived, they stepped out of the car just as Nick caught sight of the man leaning against his house. "Monroe!" The blutbad looked over at the sound of his name, and his anxious demeanour immediately changed to annoyance. Of course, they had to send _him_. While Hank was distracted, Nick went over to him. "Who did this?"

"Well, if I knew that, you wouldn't be here, now would you?" He sighed and shook his head.

Nick's face showed he meant business. "I meant, _what_ did this."

He threw his arms up for a moment in exasperation. "What do you mean, '_What_ did this'? Why does it always have to be some type of creature? What, all of a sudden every human on earth is innocent?" He ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, I didn't catch any scent other than human when I got home." He sniffed for a moment. "Speaking of which, dude, you reek. You been hanging out with anyone different lately?"

Nick shook his head. "I bumped into a guy on my way here, but other than that, no." Monroe nodded thoughtfully. "But you said when you got home. Where were you last night?"

"Oh, just a little place a few towns over."

"I'm gonna need more than that."

He sighed again. "Real nit-picky today, aren't we? You know what, fine. I was at a club. Just a small one, you've probably never heard of it. It's called Wicked."

That was something he could never have seen coming. He had, in fact, heard of it. "Wait, you were at a strip club?"

"I wasn't at a knitting lesson. What can I say? I'm a guy. More importantly, I'm a _single_ guy. I'm allowed to have a little fun once in a while. But I'll be honest, I've hooked up with chicks way more attractive than any of the whores they've got." He noticed the slightly disturbed look Nick was giving him. "Anyway, the break-in. I got home and went straight to bed. When I got up this morning, I noticed the stuff gone and my window was broken."

Nick put his notepad in his pocket when he was done scribbling things down. "I'm sorry about this. We'll figure out who it is."

"Thanks. And I suggest you check out your own house, too. You've still got that scent on you. If it were from bumping into a guy, it'd be long gone by now. Someone's been in your house, man."

Frankly, the news frightened Nick. "Listen. Tonight, Juliette is going to be out with my cousin. I need you to help me look around."

He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Any other day, I'd complain," He said as he observed the bustling scene around his house. "But right about now, I'd rather be anywhere but here."

Eight o' clock rolled around, and Monroe found himself at Nick's doorstep. "Yup, something was definitely here." He said the moment Nick opened the door. He entered without an invitation. It was only fair, wasn't it? How many times had it been the other way around?

He led them upstairs, following the smell. "They spent a lot of time in here." He said, pushing open the guest room door. "Look to see if anything's missing." He instinctively covered his nose with his sleeve. The scent was that strong.

While they were searching, Nick came across something strange. He picked up the small object from the desk. The wrapping seemed to be made of some sort of plant and was tied with a piece of twine. Monroe peered over his shoulder. "Why the hell does your cousin have one of those?"

Nick hadn't realized Monroe was right there, so he jumped when he spoke, causing the package in question to tumble to the ground. It broke apart, its contents- various rocks and herbs- scattering across the floor. Then it hit him. He looked at Monroe, confused about what had happened to himself. "I don't have a cousin."


	2. Chapter 2: Water

"Wait, what?" Monroe picked up a hair which was still attached to the twine. "Ah. Looks like you got spelled."

"Spelled?" Nick looked up. "L- like magic?"

Monroe nodded. "Not just any kind of magic. You've got wassermann magic right here."

The casing was still on the ground, and Nick picked it up. Upon closer investigation, he saw it was some type of seaweed. "What's a wassermann?"

Monroe sat on the bed. "Water sprite. Basically the bastard love child of two different creatures. Like, if I got a blutbad woman pregnant, bam, puppies. Oh, stop smirking, I'm just making a point. But if I were to knock up, I don't know, say a mauzhertz, the result would be a wassermann. I just can't believe you had one of those things in your house, man. Gross."

Nick put a hand on his forehead. "What do you mean, 'gross'? Why is it gross? And besides, she can't be one. I would have seen her change, wouldn't I? We talked about some things that would have made her show herself."

"Does she close her eyes a lot?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Wassermann." Monroe didn't even let him finish. "They're kind of a 'border creature', I guess you could say. Not quite a creature, but not exactly human, either. They don't change like we do. It's only their eyes. Every time she closed her eyes, there's no doubt they were changing colour." He got up and picked up the trash can from the corner and help it up. "Do you think anything else drinks this much water in, what, two days? Not even?" It was true. There were at least twelve plastic bottles. "They're weird.

"See, wassermanns are probably the most hated thing out there. They've always been seen as mistakes, or symbols of affairs. Famous for trying to drown people, taking a hair from them, then letting them escape. Once they're gone, they make one of these babies." He referred to the bundle in Nick's hand. "Once your hair's in there, they can make you do anything until it breaks. They're pretty limited to power, but I've heard of people killing themselves because of these things. Looks like your girl's new at this, though, considering A: She left it just laying around and B: It came apart so easily. Well, she is just fifteen. She probably hasn't had her powers for more that three, four years."

Nick nodded slowly. "So, what do I do? I can't just kick her out."

"Sure you can. Just get her alone, tell her you know what she is, and threaten her with some Grimm power thing. It doesn't even have to be true, those morons will believe anything." Monroe stated.

"What's going on here?" They turned their heads to see the teenage girl standing about three feet from them. Without thinking, Nick tackled her to the ground. "Nick! What the hell are you doing?"

He pinned her arms. "Who are you?" He demanded.

"Nick, it's me! Alexandra Burkhardt! Alex!" Her eyes moved to the left and she saw a shard of topaz laying by her head. "Oh, you found it. I guess the jig is up, then. Just hear me out, will ya?"

He reluctantly got off of her, but took his gun out of his pocket. "Just don't try anything."

Alex sat up, but she didn't get off the floor. "My name is Alexandra Smith. And judging by your buddy's expression, you both know what I am. My mother died when I was twelve, and I was adopted by Matthew Burkhardt two years ago. After he died, I became an emancipated minor. With a bit of influencing, or course." She glanced at the rock beside her. "I wasn't lying when I said I'm your cousin. It's just not by blood."

"But if it's true, why didn't you just tell me?" Nick looked her straight in the face.

He almost jumped when the dark brown eyes flashed to an abnormally bright blue. "What, just walk up to your door, 'Hi. You're a Grimm and I'm a wassermann, and guess what? Your dead uncle is my adopted father, even though he never mentioned me once'. Yeah, because that could _only_ have ended well." She went over to her bag and pulled out a metal water bottle and took a drink. When she caught sight of the look on Monroe's face, she returned his scowl with one of her own, which looked almost exactly like his. "What? You don't want to be in the same room with me, blutbad?" Again, her eyes turned, this time staying the piercing colour for more than a moment. Monroe stayed silent, glaring at her. "Fine. Have it your way." She stormed out of the room, out of the house. She didn't start to cry until she was sure she wasn't being followed.

There was silence in the guest room for about a minute before Monroe spoke. "Typical wassermann. Always playing the pity card."

Nick began making his way to the door. "I have to go find her."

"No, you don't." Monroe grabbed the sleeve of Nick's shirt. "She'll come back. She just wants you to feel guilty, then she'll have you like a puppet. The best thing you can do is let her realize her tactics aren't going to work."

"Well... Alright." Every ounce of morality he had screamed at him to do just the opposite, but he figured Monroe knew more about the subject than he did.

He gave Nick a friendly pat on the back. "I'm gonna go. She'll be back by the time you wake up tomorrow."

He got into bed with Juliette, but instead of sleeping, he reflected on the day's events. Despite Monroe's explanation, he didn't quite understand why wassermanns were so despised. She seemed innocent enough. Were they really that dangerous? Or maybe Monroe was exaggerating. But he refused to even talk to her. Something just didn't add up.

Monroe took a shower the moment he got home to get the stench off of him, but he quickly discovered it would be at least two days before it went away completely. He sighed and simply walked around his house, thinking. The wassermann reminded him of someone, but he couldn't put his finger on who. He shook his head and fell asleep on the couch, dreaming of days long since passed.


	3. Chapter 3: Clock

Monroe answered the door, saw who had been knocking, and immediately shut it again. When Nick continued banging on it, harder this time, he opened it once more. "You _do_ realize it's 5:00 AM, right?"

"She's not there. I waited all yesterday and all last night, and she's still missing." He was worried, more worried that he'd been in a long time.

Monroe, on the other hand, kept his voice calm and unconcerned. "Huh. That's weird." He began to shut the door again.

Nick stuck his foot between the door and the frame, leaving Monroe no choice but to give in. "You're going to help me find her."

"What? Why should I have to go off looking for some wassermann?"

"Because you're the one who drove her off." Nick's face was deadly serious.

Monroe shook his head and groaned. "You have another thing comin' if you think I'm going to go off sniffing her out."

He spent an hour sniffing her out. "She obviously didn't have any place in mind. I keep getting traces, but nothing strong enough to say she was there more than two hours. Sorry to be the one to break it to you, but with her being what she is, there's a good chance she's long dead by now."

Nick, following close behind him, wanted nothing more than to pretend he hadn't heard the news. "Do people really hate them that much? So much they'd kill a little girl?"

He nodded. "You have no idea." He didn't say that if he weren't under control, he'd have already done the deed himself. "Hold up." He stopped suddenly. "I think I got her." He started running, not because he wanted to get there quickly, but because he wanted it to be over. They came to an old, boarded up house. "She's here."

Nick climbed the steps and pushed open the door. "Come on."

"You have got to be kidding me." He groaned, but he didn't hightail it out of there. "Oh, yeah, she's here, alright." As if she were waiting for them, Alexandra came around the corner, wearing a beige nightgown. Her bare feet were almost silent on the old wood floor, unlike the two men, whose steps caused the boards to squeak loudly.

She rubbed her eyes, then looked from Nick to Monroe and back again. Her version of a greeting was just short of a whine. "What?"

Nick took a few steps toward her. "Alex. Do you know how worried I was?"

She rubbed the gold chain around her neck out of habit. For the first time, it was not hidden in her shirt. "Why should you two give a crap about me? You're a Grimm, he's a blutbad. I've gone my whole life knowing no one cares, why should it be any different now?"

Monroe's gaze still lingered on her, but it was no longer disgusted. It was confused, almost frightened. He'd seen something.

Neither Alex nor Nick noticed the change. "People do care. I do, and my uncle did, and your mother-"

"My mother hated me!" The dark eyes lit up blue. "She never said it out loud, but I know she did! She blamed me for my father leaving! She told him she was pregnant with me and he ran off! Do you think he cared? Oh, he cared, alright! He cared enough to leave her when she needed him the most!" She took a trembling breath before continuing. "And can you tell your friend to quit it? My eyes are up here, you perv."

Monroe hadn't thought of how his staring may appear. "No, no it's not... I wasn't... It's just... Your necklace..."

She looked down at the piece of jewelry resting on her chest. "What about it?"

He couldn't take his eyes off it. "Would you mind if I take a look?" She lifted it up, but did not remove the chain from her neck. Monroe couldn't believe he was willingly getting this close to one of these things just to look at a necklace. He took the gold pocket watch gently in his hand and studied it carefully. He then flipped it over to the back, and saw two cursive letters engraved.

_E.M_

"What does that stand for?" He asked quietly. Alex flipped the watch to its side, where another engraving was present.

_Everlasting Memories_

He observed it for a few more seconds before looking up at her eyes, which had faded back to their dark chocolate brown. "Where did you get this?"

She snatched it back and tucked it safely underneath her nightgown. "That's none of your business." After a few moments, he went back behind Nick without another word, his mind in a frenzy trying to figure out what was going on. "I'm not going back. I'll pick up my stuff, but that's it."

Nick shook his head. "I can't allow that. You're a fifteen-year-old girl."

"A fifteen-year-old girl who's been verified by law as someone who can take care of herself." He couldn't argue. "I'll stop by this afternoon. I'm going back to bed. What kind of idiots wake a girl up at six o' clock?" She turned to leave, but stopped and looked at Monroe once more. "Oh, and the guy who robbed your house is going to turn himself and all your stuff in to the police later. You're welcome." And then she was gone.

The sun was just starting to rise when Nick and Monroe left. "Dude, you owe me." Monroe mumbled.

Nick sighed. "Fine. What do you want? A favour? A few beers? What?"

His face was serious. "I want you to find out about that watch."

"Why?" Nick asked, confused that this was all he desired. "You're the clock guy, not me."

"Just find out where she got it. She obviously doesn't trust me, and she has a good reason." His voice had its usual, almost annoyed tone.

Nick had no idea why he was so interested in a necklace. "I'll talk to her. But what's the big deal? Is it valuable or something?"

There was a thoughtful silence for a brief moment. "It might be."


	4. Chapter 4: Music

Alexandra showed up at 12:30. Nick invited her inside, which she reluctantly accepted. "I want to apologise for Monroe." He said as he got them each a drink.

She shook her head. "I'm used to it."

Nick sat on the couch beside her and tugged on the gold chain around her neck just enough to cause the watch on the end to fall out from under her shirt. "This is nice. Where'd you get it?"

Maybe she didn't piece it together, or maybe she did and just didn't care. "I found it in my mother's drawer after she died. It was in a little box with a note." When Nick asked what the note said, she pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket, which was faded and warn from years of being read over and over.

_Lauren,_

_I ask that you always keep this necklace as a reminder that I'm always with you._

_If you do that, I will never be far away. Though others would protest, remember_

_that I love you. You can be sure that my own watch will never leave my side. We have_

_something special, and it's called love. Someday, I hope everyone will understand._

_With love,_

_The only man you'll ever need_

Underneath the message was another, to no one in particular, in a different, more feminine handwriting.

_Understand just like you understand that our child needs you?_

_If that's the case, I'd rather they not._

She folded it back up and put it back in her pocket. "That's why I came to Portland. I need to find him, and I have reason to believe he's here. Even if he doesn't want to see me, he should know my mother is dead. He deserves that much." With that, she stood and picked up her little blue bag. "Thanks, Nick. I'll see you around."

Less than a half an hour later, Monroe answered his phone. "You find anything out?"

"Yeah. It was her mother's." He explained everything that had happened earlier between himself and the girl.

Monroe was silent for a moment. "And her father's in Portland?"

"That's what she says."

He nodded, though Nick obviously couldn't see it over the phone. "Cool. Thanks for your help. I'll... Talk to you later." He hung up as he drove past an advertisement for the local talent show. Even at that speed, a name on it caught his attention.

He got there just in time, but there were no chairs left, so he stood in the back. It was better like this, anyway. He wouldn't be seen. The high school auditorium was filled to the brim with people, mostly parents coming to support their kids. Monroe had gotten there just as a seven-year-old boy completely destroyed a simple magic trick. But people clapped anyway to be polite.

Though it was now dark, he could see a piano being wheeled onstage as the MC- whoever he was- spoke. When the lights came up, the instrument was all that was present until a woman came on.

No, it wasn't a woman. It was a teenage girl. But she looked so much older. Her dark blonde hair was piled on the top of her head in an up-do, and she had on a purple silk dress, keeping away from brown for what could possibly be the first time in her life. Monroe didn't recognise her at first, or rather, he recognised her as someone else. If the watch weren't enough, the way she looked right now proved it all. Alex sat on the piano bench and played the intro to her song. He hadn't known she was a fan of Phantom of the Opera, but then again, maybe she'd chosen the song for the meaningful lyrics. She sang it with a pure soprano voice, each word hitting Monroe in a way both wonderful and terrible.

"_You were once my one companion_

_You were all that mattered_

_You were once a friend and father_

_Then my world was shattered..._

"_Wishing you were somehow here again_

_Wishing you were somehow near_

_Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed_

_Somehow you would be here_..."

He was entranced. The way her voice blended with the sound of the piano was enchanting. A true musician. He never wanted it to end.

"_Try to forgive_

_Teach me to live_

_Give me the strength to try_..."

It all fit so perfectly. Every line of it. Was it fate or just coincidence? He'd never been one for believing in fate, but at this moment, maybe he would have to reconsider. Much to his despair, the song eventually had to come to an end.

"_No more memories_

_No more silent tears_

_No more gazing across the wasted years..._

"_Help me say goodbye_

_Help me say goodbye_..."

Monroe didn't clap when she finished. He was busy studying the wassermann's face. He knew who she reminded him of. Slipping out of the school was simple. It was driving that was difficult. He was so taken offguard. He managed, and as soon as he got home, he ran to his cluttered closet and began tearing everything out of it. It _had_ to be there.

The longer he searched, the more worried he got. What if it was stolen in the break-in? After all, it wasn't exactly the first thing he'd checked on.

He finally got to the back wall, which was covered with various shelves. He checked in every box, finding nothing. Could he have really gotten rid of it? In his frustration, he picked up an old suit jacket and threw it across the room. But it made a sound as it fell to the ground. He rushed over to it and reached in the pocket. A small white box. He opened it, his heart aching at the sight of its contents. He gently took the gold pocket watch in his hand and rubbed his thumb over the glass that covered the face. Then he flipped it to the back.

_L.S_

And on its side:

_Love Survives_

All he could do was sit on the ground, his back against the wall, and hold the timepiece close to him.


	5. Chapter 5: Girl

Nick didn't waste any time answering the door. "Hey, what's up? You seemed so out of it on the phone."

Monroe's face was troubled. "I need your help."

Unused to this request, Nick told him to come in. Monroe sat on the couch, and Nick was about to take a seat in an armchair when he noticed the glass of water resting on the floor. "Sorry about the mess. Alex came over yesterday, and-"

"Could you just give her a break?" Monroe interrupted unexpectedly. "Not only has her kind been hated since, like, the beginning of time, but now you're off complaining that she forgot to put away a cup? Seriously?"

He looked at Monroe, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't know what wassermanns have gone through!" He almost shouted. "You think the Witch Trials were actually for witches? They've been hunted out since the very first one! It's terrible!"

Nick just stood there for a moment. "What's with the sudden change of heart? I thought you hated them as much as everyone else did."

He chose his words carefully. "That was before I got to know one." Nick set the glass back down on the floor and sat in the chair opposite the couch. He told him to explain why he'd come over. "Listen, when I was young, I did some stuff I regret. But there's one thing I would never go back and change. I was at a party once, and I met this mauzhertz girl. And I'm not gonna lie, I was drunk off my ass. If I were sober, I wouldn't have given her the time of day. Not because she wasn't attractive or anything, it's just, a mauzhertz and a blutbad... Anyway, at one point or another, I must've passed out, 'cause I woke up at her house. She helped me out, we talked, all that stuff. And it got a little... Intimate. We didn't fool around until we were dating for about five months, but still, it wasn't just two horny kids wanting a little fun. We really had something. And we were careful; she was on the pill. She's the reason I got myself under control. When I went to her house one day, she was gone, and I never saw her again."

Nick wasn't following. "What, did you find her or something?"

"No. I found... Something that belongs to her. To both of us." He was having trouble saying it out loud. "Her name was Lauren Smith."

Now he finally understood. "Wait. Are you saying...?" Monroe nodded. "And you're just realizing this? You didn't pick anything up when you looked at her, or when she said her name?"

"Yeah, because Smith is a _really_ rare last name." He rested his head in his hands. "What do I do?"

Nick got up and sat on the couch beside him. "You need to talk to her. She's looking for you."

"She thinks I hate her!" Said Monroe. "And... I did hate her. Before I knew who she is..." He shook his head. "I can't do this. I can't take care of another person. And how do I tell her?"

His shoulder now had a friendly, supportive hand on it. "You're just gonna have to figure it out."

The clockmaker's house was silent but the sound of the cello. The music was sad, but he was somehow able to add a bit of hope to the melody. He didn't understand. Why had Lauren lied and said he'd left, when in truth, she'd been the one to flee? And Alexandra. She looked so much like her mother. But she got his eyes, musical enthusiasm, and snide attitude. It killed him to know how much she'd been hurt. To think she'd been abandoned, to be despised simply for existing, to have the only people she felt safe around die.

He tried as hard as he could to push away his guilt. After all, what could he have done? He hadn't known; there was no way he could have. But the way she'd looked at him, the poison in her voice. He could almost hear it.

"What? You don't want to be in the same room with me, blutbad? Fine. Have it your way"

Chances were it wasn't personal. That was her way of protecting herself from hurt. He knew because it was the same as his. If you don't care about anyone, they can't betray you.

She obviously didn't know, otherwise she would have said something. If not to him personally, to Nick. He thought back to the performance. The way her face reflected both the joy of music and the loneliness of her life.

How would she react when he told her? That's what scared him the most. Would she hear his side of the story, or would she figure the man who left her mother alone wasn't worth a second chance? And what if she didn't believe him? What would he do then? He had the evidence, but if she were anything like her mother, there was a chance she would think it was a trick.

He needed to tell her, but not today. He had to sort it all out, decide exactly what he would say. It wasn't something you could just jump into. It took planning. He stopped playing and closed his eyes. _Lauren, _He thought. _If you can hear me, help me with your daughter_. Our _daughter_.

The next day was warm, and Monroe stood outside the old, boarded up house. This was it. He knocked on the door for the better part of fifteen minutes. Under any other circumstance, he would have just come back later, but he checked, and he could smell her in there. Something wasn't right.

The door's lock was broken, so he entered easily. She'd begun to add some pieces of furniture, but nothing extraordinary. It was quiet other than his footsteps. Where was she?

He took a left into the kitchen. What he saw nearly made him sick with anguish.

Lying next to the sink, face down, was the girl he'd been looking for. He couldn't tell if she was breathing. He bolted to her side and turned her over. Her skin was rough, almost hard. _She got too dehydrated, _He thought. He knew wassermanns needed more than twice the amount of water than anything else to survive. And despite himself, he realized he was holding in a sob.

How could he have let this happen? He should have come sooner. He timidly stroked her hair.

And then he heard it. Short and raspy. He put his hand just in front of her mouth and felt the minuscule bursts of air. He still had time. He stood and turned the sink on full blast, but nothing came out. He tried the sink in the bathroom, and even the shower, but both of them were dry, as well. There was only one thing he could think of left to do.

He carried her out of the house and put her in his car. Only then did he see the graffiti scrawled on the siding.

_There is no middle ground_

Infuriated, he drove as fast as he could.

Alex's throat felt like it was on fire when she woke up. She opened her eyes and looked around the new setting.

Frightened and confused, she began to get up, only stopping when she heard a familiar voice. "Good to see you're awake."

She turned at looked at Monroe, who offered her a bottle of water. She took it and drank, the burning sensation inside her lessening. "Where are we...?"

"My house. You scared the crap out of me. I came to your house and you were half dead." She glanced over at the twenty or so water bottles scattered around the floor. "Some idiots must've found out you live there and broke your waterline. I had to bring you here so you wouldn't die."

"Why?" She adjusted her position so she was sitting. "Why would you bring a wassermann into your home, let alone try to keep her alive?"

Monroe pulled up a chair and sat directly in front of her. "What do you know about your father?"

Her gaze moved downward, and silently she wondered what had brought on the change of subject. "He's not a mauzhertz." She said softly.

"Nothing else?" She shook her head and he inhaled just a little to calm his nerves. "First off, I want to warn you that I'm not good with this kind of stuff, so bare with me." Alex nodded, Monroe sighed. "I can't say I understand what that's like, because I really don't. But I do want you to know I... I care about you." She seemed puzzled, but he continued. "I thought I'd seen you before when I first met you. I couldn't figure out where, but I could have sworn I did. And then, I saw you sing, and you looked so much like her..." He put his elbows on his knees so they were close. If each didn't know better, they'd have said the other had mirrors instead of eyes, reflecting their own back at them. Monroe lowered his voice. "'I ask that you always keep this necklace as a reminder that I'm always with you. If you do that, I will never be far away.'"

Alex recognised the words in a heartbeat. "How do you...?"

He took in his hand the watch around her neck and turned it over. "Do you know what E.M stands for?"

"'Everlasting Memories'. It says so on the side..."

He shook his head. "It's supposed to look like that to take away suspicion. It stands for Eddie Monroe." He pulled the identical pocket watch out of his jeans and showed it to her. "L.S. Not 'Love Survives'. Lauren Smith."

She touched it with a trembling hand, comparing it to the one she knew, before she uttered a single question-like word. "D- Dad...?" The sound of it, to be called that, was amazing. He nodded. "Why did you leave us...?" Her voice was shaking as much as her hand.

Taking a risk, he took her hand. "I didn't. I had no idea about you. I know I've been a complete bastard to you and you have every reason not to believe me, but I'm telling you, it's the truth."

She looked at their entwined hands, then up at those eyes that looked so much like her own. Was he really the one she'd been searching for? Yes. Yes, he had to be. He had the watch. And it just felt _right_. "The last thing she ever said to me," She recalled quietly. "Was that if I ever found you, to tell you she loves you." With that, she broke, some tears falling from her eyes. She felt them beginning to change and shut her eyelids.

Monroe moved his position over to the couch and put his hand under her chin, lifting her head to face him. "Look at me." She did as she was told, the light blue sending chills down his spine. But he didn't look away. "People know about the house. You can't live there any more. I have an extra room. If you want it..."

Still crying, she rested her head on his chest. "Thank you. For everything."

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her to let her know non-verbally that it would be okay, that he would always be there. He took a deep breath and quickly noticed that he no longer hated the scent. In fact, it was almost nice. It smelled of love and family. Her tears soaked through his shirt, but he didn't protest. They stayed in that same position for a long time, long enough for Alexandra's sobs to fade to the slow, rhythmic pattern of sleep. He felt her heart beating so close to his, and smiled. She was beautiful. And she was perfect. And she was all his.

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it! ^.^<strong>


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